Hiding in Plain Sight
by Delgodess
Summary: Because she was a Ferry Girl. And she was Death.
1. Hiding

**Disclaimer: Yu Yu Hakusho and all its characters belong to Yoshihiro Togashi.**

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There were moments when she forgot.

When the sounds of her friends voices drowned out the constant call of her blood, when their smiles were all that she could see and she breathed in the Life surrounding her.

And then she would remember.

Her eyes would glaze and become far away; her body would still and the energy laying latent within her old form would sing.

Because she was old.

And age was a relative thing to one such as herself.

She had seen so much; _done_ so much. She had floated above war ravaged landscapes, the shrieking wind sending strands of her moon light hair fluttering about her face, laying the smell of fear and despair heavily in her nostrils. She had watched as demon and human alike fell, the roiling crescendo of carnage beating out its macabre rhythm.

Her kimono had been black then, black as night and her hair had been pulled up into a high tail that made her soft features sharp and unforgiving. This is what greeted her charges when they woke in the Other and she dragged them begging and screaming down to the Pits of Hell.

There had been others like her, older and wiser, far more powerful then herself. Ancient beings that had roamed the wastelands long before King Enma had ascended the throne. But that was a forgotten age, and they had purpose now.

The call came: They would put an end to this, before the World destroyed itself.

One by one they fell from the sky, appearing from the nothing and swooping down like vengeful angles, their black garments floating about them. They struck like grim ghosts, prematurely tearing their victim's souls from their bodies' and striking true terror into the fleeing masses.

Beings that could not be killed: for how can you kill something that is already dead?

Her eyes bled red as she too, descended to the chaos below. She remembered how her staff had slicked with blood, how the small crescent blade at its end had shone a bight scarlet and how the spirits she left in her wake cried out in wailing agony.

When all was said and done, the air grew still, and the Dead were made to promise to never take the life of a Living; only to guide it on its way.

They were to change themselves; or risk reaping the consequences of their actions. Many resisted, too set in their ways, but she was one of the few who had been willing. She remembers standing in front of a mirror, her body bare of clothing and trying to smile. What she produced was much too artificial, but with time, it would come to look natural on her face.

It had been countless years since then. She had exchanged her rags of black for the colors of Life and let her hair fall to frame her lightened eyes and innocent features. She hid in plain sight; living a Half-Life, a life of service for her sins, and forgot the past.

But when she did happen to remember, she could feel her spiritual energy coiling within her, her rosette eyes darkening to their true color and she would let her seemingly fragile hands trace her oar, feeling the transformed weapon just beneath its wooden surface.

Flailing hands before her eyes would bring her back, the sound of laughter and questioning faces quickly reminding her where she was and who she was with.

Shaking her head, she would smile giddily, bring up a hand to cover her sheepish face and revel in the secret thought that few knew what she really, _truly_, was.

Her eyes would catch Shuichi's, his green depths flickering yellow and for the next little while the fox inside him would watch her closely, his slim body as tense as a bow string.

Because it was old enough to remember too. And it had never forgotten.

Her friends thought her clumsy, short sighted and annoyingly optimistic. This was good, for it was exactly the type of person she was striving so hard to be. And though long years of practice had truly changed her, there was always a small part of Botan that remembered her true nature. It whispered to her, reminding her of her sleeping power and she couldn't help but preen with satisfaction at the hidden knowledge.

Because she was a Ferry Girl. And she was Death.

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**AN: I like the idea of Botan being more than what she seems. So, here is something that tickled my muse. If you catch any spelling/grammar mistakes, please tell me!**

**Review Please!**

**~Delgodess**


	2. These Visits

He hated it when she was like this.

When all traces of awkwardness vanished and she stood tall, looming over him with no hint of her customary smile. It unnerved him that she could switch so easily to this persona, as if the long years had had little impact.

She stood before his desk, delicate hands held loosely at her sides, the carnation colored kimono settling about her form like water, subtly accentuating her curves. Windblown hair framed her face, the disordered blue strands highlighting her otherworldly features.

She looked, for all intents and purposes, like her normal self, his 'favorite' Ferry Girl. But her demeanor had shifted, the faint release of potent spiritual energy swirling about the room like an elusive scent. Even now, after centuries of her servitude, the young king could barely detect the change.

Her normally innocent eyes where dark, magenta flickering with threads of scarlet. Koenma repressed the urge to shrink under her gaze, feeling the slick of moisture under his hat as beads of sweat began to form at his hairline. It was times like these that he truly felt like a child: young, weak and helpless.

He clenched his mouth tight around his pacifier, teeth sinking nervously into its worn rubber surface. Its familiar weight calmed him and he lifted an envelope onto the desk, one small, pudgy hand sliding it across the polished wood.

She did not move to take it immediately, letting the silence linger for an unbearable amount of time before acting.

Her thin fingers pried the crisp parchment open with a flick, expressionless eyes running over the words written there before fixing on his.

"The target?" She questioned softly, voice light.

Koenma nodded, leaning back into his cushioned chair with steeped fingertips. He took a deep breath, stilling his racing heart and closing his tired eyes before speaking.

"I think a reaping is in order, don't you?"

His eyelids opened partially, watching the unreadable woman before him as she took in his double meaning. She stared for a moment, idly tracing the damning manuscript.

Then she nodded.

The paper disintegrated in her uplifted hand, dust drifting to the carpeted floor, fluttering about her socked feet. Her ore materialized to fill her waiting fingers and she turned, sliding out an open window with a whispered sigh of fabric.

Koenma slumped in his seat as the tension left his body, small elbows resting on the hard wood before him.

He hated the nature of these visits; the way they forced him to make use of _those_ particular talents.

How they reminded him of what she really was.

His Last Resort.

His Executioner.

His Ferry Girl.

And he could admit, if only to himself, that the being known as Botan, _terrified_ him.

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**AN: So I decided to turn this one-shot into well... not a one-shot. Enjoy!  
**

**Review Please!**

**~Delgodess**


	3. Off

The first time he'd met her he didn't know what to think, because, _god fucking damnit_, he'd just been hit by a _car_.

And when she had cheerfully told him that he was no longer among the living, he'd nearly kicked the bucket all over again. But he was a punk and if anything, he had guts, and he wasn't gonna keel over like some pussy just because he'd _died_. Or so he told himself.

Then he learned that his judgment-day had come.

She'd taken his hand, dragging him up onto her ore and shot off to god-knows-where. And all throughout the journey, her fingers lay clasped over his, the delicate limbs clenched like a cold vise around his wrist, their strength unnatural and unforgiving. He hadn't thought much of it then, too absorbed in his disbelief and gawking with no little awe at the never-ending corridors they passed.

He'd been terrified to meet Koenma, a laughable thought now, but when he thinks back, he can remember her talking quickly, explaining every little detail of the world around them. Her voice had been encouraging then too, a kind of practiced encouragement, like the voice teachers use at school when they know you're a lost cause, but just don't want to say it to your face.

Indifferently going through the motions.

Again, he hadn't recognized it, too taken by what was happening to him.

Then he was talking to The Runt, being offered a second chance and suddenly it was as if the entire atmosphere in the room changed.

He remembers glancing up, startled, and seeing the look on her face. Her smile was gone, lips twisted in a frown and expressive eyes shadowed, their rose depths watching him with calculating intent.

For a moment, his body tensed, readying for a fight, the look the same one rival punks gave him when he unknowingly walked on their turf. Like all they wanted to do was wipe the floor with him.

It felt like she was looking at him, _really_ looking at him and he couldn't help but feel like she somehow found him…_lacking_.

It shook him, because he realized she was _right_ and it was fucking _weird_ because he had _never_ _cared_ what others thought. But he let it slide like all the other times, too confused, too frustrated and too angry to wonder why she was glaring at him.

It's only now that he understands what his newly awakened Spiritual Awareness was trying to tell him, and as he looks across the table, watching her interacting with a giggling Keiko, he feels his Spirit Energy spike. Yusuke's hands curl into fists, body instinctively leaning forward, his warrior's blood humming in his veins.

There was something dangerously off about Botan, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what.

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**AN: From Yusuke's point of view. Tell me if I have to fix anything!  
**

**Please Review!**

**~Delgodess**


	4. Challenge

Keiko knew something was wrong with Botan the moment she laid eyes on her.

Not because she was physic, or because she was could deduce things in the blink of an eye. She knew because she was a woman. And when she looked at Botan, it was like looking in a mirror.

She recognized that fake, plastic smile, cracking at the seams from overuse. The forced openness of her eyes and the almost harsh way she spit out her laughs, like the very act of it pained and disgusted her.

She wore a mask that all women wear at some point in their lives, but for her, it seemed as if she had been wearing it for far too long. It was falling apart, this fake person she tried to be, and she didn't even know it. Or perhaps she did, but was so used to lying to herself that she didn't know how to stop.

It was sad.

So Keiko decided to do everything in her power to make those smiles real, to help the bitter, angry girl stuck in that body come out and learn to be happy again.

She didn't know who she had been before the mask and frankly, she didn't care. If she could get her to laugh, to cry, even to scream in genuine frustration, then she would be content.

It would be hard, but Keiko felt she was up to the challenge.

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**AN: Heh, Keiko really doesn't know what she's getting into does she?**

**Review Please!**

**~Delgodess**


	5. Something Else

Shizuru couldn't help but flinch every time Botan walked into her house.

Her Spiritual Energy was so distinct, so entirely overwhelming that it was a wonder no one fell over. But then, none of the boys ever reacted adversely to her presence, so she shrugged it off.

She had only begun to suspect something odd when the boys continued to ignore her, even when her aura was a writhing mass of worry and anxiety. Shizuru had nearly choked on her cigarette, it was so stifling.

Yet the boys just sat there, staring at the Baby King on the screen like the living room wasn't going to explode at any given moment.

It was almost like they couldn't feel it.

Kuwabara was twitchy, which meant he felt _something_, but whatever he felt wasn't enough to bother him.

She frowned.

Shizuru had always been especially sensitive about spiritual stuff, but this… this was something else.

She squinted, brown eyes straining as she tried to see beyond her normal vision.

She saw Botan's body, her energy a deep pink, almost red. It was expanding and contracting with each swing of her emotions, pushing outwards only to stop before it left her skin.

Shizuru leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, trying to ignore the physical world for a moment and really focus on what was before her.

Her sight narrowed and suddenly the world was ablaze with light, each person in the room shining like multi-colored flames.

She was drawn to her brother's first, orange and prickly, but she moved on quickly, ignoring Yusuke's overly-bright blue, Keiko's barley-existent white and the two demons- Hiei, red with flickers of black and Shuuichi's, purple with a white core- intent only on finding the one she was searching for. But every time she tried to look at Botan, it was as if her gaze was pushed away, returning always to the boys'.

She tried harder, forcing herself to look and when she felt that familiar push, she pushed back harshly, and kept pushing until she felt something give.

Suddenly she was looking at blazing red, though instead of fire, she saw liquid, the light moving in a steady flow around Botan.

And then she saw the chains.

They were imbedded in the skin of her wrists, ankles and neck, the gold markings looking like they had been carved there. They kept the torrent of Botan's Spiritual Energy at bay, confining it and hiding it all at once.

Whoever had shackled her had either been extremely powerful, stupid, or both. Because from what Shizuru could see, there was _no way_ someone with that much energy could be rendered invisible.

Shizuru pulled back, feeling her ears pop as the barrier hiding Botan's soul hissed back into place like a compressed can of air. She rubbed at her now scratchy eyes, letting them adjust back to normal sight.

When she opened them, she sighed, lifting her cigarette and taking a long drag. Her gaze lingered on the group huddled around the tv screen, all unaware and oblivious.

Shizuru huffed, turning to fetch the snacks she'd prepared for the brats.

She would keep her findings to herself.

It would be more fun to see their reactions anyway.

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**AN: What do you think? Mistakes?  
**

**Review Please!**

**~Delgodess**


	6. Waiting

He never dared to touch her.

Well, actually, he never touched anyone, but with the Ferry Girl, he took special care to avoid all contact.

The hairs on the back of his neck would stand at attention whenever she entered the room, the instinctive urge to fight or flee rearing up as his honed senses identified the presence of a predator.

But it was just her, stupid smile on her face as she skipped closer. He would have scoffed, if not for the internal battle he was fighting just to stay still. Her behavior was annoying, always whining and simpering, the pathetic lackey of the King of the Spirit World. Her voice alone was enough to give him a raging head ache.

He would have killed her already, if not for one disturbing fact: **He couldn't **_**SEE**_** her**_._

With his Jagan Eye, _nothing_ was hidden from his view; _nothing_, except for _her_.

It was as if she didn't exist.

It unnerved him, this icy feeling of dread, like poisoned claws slowly tearing their way through his belly, and he despised how it reminded him of his youth, when he was alone, cold…afraid.

He hadn't feared anything in such a long time that he could barely identify the illusive feeling.

And he _hated_ her for it, for making him feel this way, while all the while she smiled and joked and played.

Hiei watched her, waiting for the monster he knew was lurking behind that joyful appearance, the silky pale skin, and the sweet vanilla scent.

He watched her hungrily, his sweaty palms resting on the hilt of his sword, the cold metal longing for her blood.

He lusted after her, every laugh, every word _nothing_ like the screams he would draw from her rose lips.

And so Hiei waited, watching Botan with the keen patience of a murder, waiting for the day he could sink his fangs into her supple flesh and rip her throat out.

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**AN: Hum, that was a bit dark. Yes, well, any mistakes?**

**Review Please!**

**~Delgodess**


	7. Special

Kuwabara had known from the beginning that she was special.

Special in all the ways beautiful girls were always special: graceful, stunning and gorgeous things that they were.

She had been his first love, with her exotic looks and brilliant smile.

But there had been a darkness to her, a kind of aching sorrow in her old eyes and he realized quite quickly that she was not for him. It would take an old soul like hers to truly understand, and he wouldn't have been able to give that to her.

Then he'd met Yukina and everything changed.

But he still worried about the spirit girl, the flashes of hollowness he would occasionally catch in her gaze far too haunted for one so lovely. She was one of those rare, lonely beauties, always within sight, but forever out of reach.

But something about her nagged at him, questions forming in his mind, discrepancies about her nature, her role as Koenma's 'favorite' Ferry Girl.

What was her purpose, really?

Kuwabara knew the others didn't think much of his intelligence, maybe even looking down on him for such an assumption, but just because he had to roll it over in his mind for a while didn't mean he was stupid.

He knew Botan was special.

He just didn't know how.

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**AN: Cranking out the Flash Fic chapters. What do you think? Mistakes?**

**Review Please!**

**~Delgodess**


	8. Realization

Genkai may have been a crotchety old bitch, but she knew power when she felt it.

And that girl practically _reeked_ of it.

So she was surprised, and perhaps a little disappointed, when she discovered that the blue haired girl wasn't competing in her tournament and would not, in fact, become her successor.

Instead, she got stuck with an idiot. Don't get her wrong, the brat had potential, but he was such an ass that sometimes she just wanted to pound his face into to the wall. Often times, she did.

Then she was finally introduced to the woman and she understood.

The shadows of violence trailed in her wake, her hands slicked and dripping with blood, and if the old bat listened closely, she could hear the faint rattle of chains when the girl moved. She was a reaper, a Guide to the Other and as she looked up into those pale eyes, their depths darkening in acknowledgement, she realized something.

Genkai was going to die.

And Botan would be her Death.

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**AN: Huh. The chapters seem to be getting shorter and shorter. I should probably fix that. Any mistakes?  
**

**Review!**

**~Delgodess**


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